2:15 AM

Lying in bed at 2:15 reading an e-book for class (“The Marriage Plot”) and a train goes through the Goleta station. Probably only two or three miles away if you’re a bird. Possibly as many as four or five with roads.

The train whistles, which isn’t an unusual sound come nighttime, but then I hear it clatter through the station without stopping. Wheels on the tracks, thwacking away without fading for several long and quiet minutes. It’s quiet outside except for that noise.

Then the clatter starts to fade, and a gaggle of happy, screaming drunk girls bike by. I half wonder if they know it’s Tuesday. More importantly, though, do they remember any words beyond “oh my god?”